Most Unusual Places
by aloneatlastplease
Summary: Jimmie graduates from East High 3 years after Troy and decides to follow in his role models footsteps. Therefor following him to California is only right. He just didn't expect what would come next. Troy/Jimmie pre-SLASH
1. Prologue

He was through with it. Done. No more.

Why couldn't she just trust him?

How on earth was he supposed to know that Gabriella had been there at the game? And it's not like he did anything.

He had been walking back to the changing room after a glorious victory against the Western Washington Vikings, and had stopped to say hello to one of his friends on the cheer-leading squad.

Michelle had shown him around campus when he had arrived, her boyfriend had helped him move in, and had been his first friend at University. He felt she was as important to him as Chad or Gabriella. She was even a dancer for the Drama department.

So when he had stopped, made a joke about the game, laughed a bit, twirled her around before continuing on, he had seen nothing wrong with it. He had also not seen Gabriella standing ten feet away, glowering at the blonde girl and her 'cheating' boyfriend.

Well, he saw her as soon as he walked into her. Quite literally, as he was still turned around, saying something to Michelle. Gabriella had hissed something at him that sounded remarkably like 'you lying cheating bastard!' and now they were standing outside, in the rain, shouting at each other.

"How could you do this to me Troy? I have hours of studying to do, but I gave it up so I could see your game!" Her voice was nearing a shriek as her hysteria built.

"Well, sorry! I never asked you to come down here!"

"Of course not. Otherwise you wouldn't have flirted with that _whore!_"

His fingers shot to his temples to ward off a fast-approaching migraine. "She's my best friend. Leave her alone." He ground out through clenched teeth.

Gabriella stood there, arms limp at her sides, all the fight drained out of her. "Then why haven't I heard about her?"

Troy very well nearly laughed. "I've tried. Every time I even say her name, you change the subject."

Gabriella was about to retort before she realized that this was actually true. He'd tried telling her all sorts of stories of the crazy antics the he got up to with the Junior girl, but she'd always cut him off, too jealous to think that there was another girl in his life. So, instead she settled for, "I don't know you anymore Troy."

The plan to just laugh in her face was looking like a good one to Troy right about now. "You never did. You knew what you wanted to know, and blocked any flaws from your mind."

Gabriella also knew that was true, but wasn't going to admit it. "No Troy. College has changed you."

He looked up at her, his ice blue eyes, hard as steel. "Well guess what Gabby, this isn't Kindergarten, no matter what you'd like to delude yourself to believing."

She knew that too. She knew everything he was saying, which made it harder for her to stay mad. But she was resolved, and once she got an idea in her head, she wouldn't allow herself to believe she might be wrong.

For one thing, before he'd left for University, they'd talked about things. There would be parties and girls and fraternities and girls and alcohol and girls. There would be _plenty_ of girls willing to sleep with him at any given opportunity and she'd said that was fine, as long as he didn't actually do anything. She wouldn't get jealous—or at least not show it—as long as he never returned the affections.

But now he had and she was pissed.

"So what now Troy? What do we do?"

There was such scathing and malice in her voice. He was sick of hearing that tone, knowing that they'd be breaking up, he'd be heart broken and have to crawl back to her. He was sick of singing to her, sweet talking her and telling her whatever she wanted to hear. It ended now.

"Now? Well, now, we're over."

Her face betrayed such shock and hurt. A part of him wanted to reach out to her and wrap her in his arms, kiss away any tears. But he knew that if he let himself be tricked one more time, he would lose his head completely. So he kept his face neutral, his tone even.

"What? Does it shock you that for once you're not the one to do the dumping?" Tears built up in her eyes, but she knew they wouldn't fall. She was sure that given a couple days, he'd be coming back to her, begging forgiveness. So instead, the rain just played the role of her tears for her.

"You'll regret this Troy Bolton." She looked him up and down then turned on heal and stormed back to her car. However, her dramatic exit—which had definitely improved, he noted—was sullied by her hair sticking to her face and flowered dress clinging to less than appealing areas.

He looked at her retreating form, and just felt numb. But no more, he wouldn't be heart broken again.

So he took a deep breath, and walked back inside to celebrate with his teammates.


	2. Nutters, Completely Nutters

**Author: isawayorkiepoo  
Title: Most Unusual Places  
Pairing: Troy Bolton/Jimmie Zara and past Troy Bolton/Gabriella Montez  
Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort  
Rating: T for Adult Themes including drugs, drinking, smoking and sex but it's toned down and only a minor plot line.  
Summary: Jimmie graduates 3 years after Troy and decides to follow in his role models footsteps. Therefor going to University of Berkley is only right. He just wasn't prepared for what would happen when he got there.  
Warnings: Homosexual relationships. Bitchy ex-girlfriends. Fangirly!Jimmie.  
AN: It shouldn't have taken so long to finish, but my program closed when I was half way done, and I had to retype from memory. :(**

**SORRY ABOUT THE CHAPTER ALERT. IT WAS A GLITCH I HAD TO FIX!  
**

* * *

Jimmie's mother looked at him from the drivers seat and sighed. She knew this day would come, but it didn't make it any easier.

She could still remember him when he went off to his first year of High School. He'd been so scared, that first day. At one point on the drive to the school, he'd turned to her and begged her to drive him home. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to face the rejection of the older students, and not knowing where he fit in.

And it only made her that much prouder when he'd walked in the door that afternoon and raved to her about how nice everyone was, and how he and Donnie had decided that they'd join the basketball team.

Later that year he'd performed as an understudy for Troy Bolton in the musical, and she had wondered to herself how many other undiscovered talents he had.

After that, he continued with the Drama Department, and left basketball on the back burner. He'd told her that he liked basketball but he felt so at ease on the stage. She'd said that she was fine with it and so very proud of him.

And over the years, she watched that school mold and shape him into the man he was now. He'd grown so much. His interests had spread out from sports and the stage. He'd traveled through every clique in East High.

He'd tried skateboarding for a while, but quit that when he came home with a bloody nose–his board hit a rock and had sent him toppling to the ground–and soon picked up studying books in the nice, safe, rockless library. That had lasted all of two days before he got bored with biology and learning what made the molecular structure of glucose and fructose different.

Then he tried hanging with the 'emo' kids who he soon found out weren't that much different from the preps. They were still energetic, but only when no one else was around. They had an image to uphold after all. So then he wandered over to the 'we're so cool and don't even have to try' group that reminded him a bit too much of one Gabriella Montez. All the kids were smart, and they were all pretty. Everything came naturally to them, and they never really had to work at anything.

Pretty soon he settled down to floating between the basketball team and the thespians.

And through it all his mother had–metaphorically–held his hand. She'd wanted him to be happy, and hoped desperately that he could finally find himself. She suspected that he still hadn't. There was so much that he was unsure about, and she was scared for him.

She took another quick glance at him and inhaled sharply. Her baby boy really was leaving. With the thought, tears welled up in her dark green eyes.

She shook her head, trying to stay positive. This would be good for him, to get away for a while, and make new friends and learn more.

A low groan came from next to her. Jimmie sat up slowly, stretching out the kinks in his neck. Really, there should be a warning label on cars, saying not to sleep in them, lest they break their necks.

He looked outside and spotted a sign coming up. _20 miles to University of Berkley_. He smiled a bit and looked at his mother.

Her deep red hair looked disheveled as if she'd been running her hands through it in worry. Tears were running down her face and there didn't look to be any sign of them stopping.

Of it's own accord, his hand reached up to wipe the tears away. She gave a small gasp and turned to look at him, a sad smile playing across her lips. "Hi Jim." She whispered and her smile grew.

"Mom," he started, "I'm gonna be home for Christmas and call you everyday. Don't cry." He gave her a bright grin and watched her eyes light up.

Now her smile looked genuine. "I know baby,"–he cringed–"I'm just doing my job. Emotional Mother Syndrome and all that." Her eyes twinkled as she patted his hand and removed it from her face, squeezing it before letting it go.

He chuckled for a moment and looked out the window.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he started talking. They talked mainly about his hopeful career–a theater actor. He'd had so much fun with acting during High School, he decided to pursue it at college.

His high school credits for acting were actually fairly high. He'd gotten a singing coach–Sharpay, as she'd decided to do extra singing lessons on the weekend, however she made him swear that he would never wear that cologne again–and had contacted Kelsi questioning what piano teacher she'd had. His mother had paid for the lessons, and he was actually pretty good.

His mom had also paid the 200 dollar admission fee for the city local theater. They'd performed several original musicals as well as Peter Pan, Mary Poppins and a low grade production of RENT.

His resume looked very impressive, and Ms Darbus had declared that if he didn't get a scholarship, those schools were insane. Of course, many of them were dubbed sane, at least by Ms Darbus's standards, and he'd gotten into Berkley.

He suspected that with a bit more training, he could definitely make it, even as just a small time theater actor.

_5 miles to University of Berkley._

He smiled as they passed the sign. He was almost there.

For the next 5 miles his mother's voice turned stern as she made sure that he'd call, write, email. Heck, he was sure that if he knew how, she'd make him smoke signal messages home. Perhaps he could buy an owl and have it deliver letters.

They pulled onto campus, circling around the Memorial Stadium and driving past the Greek Theater. Finally, they pulled up in front of the student dorms.

He and his mother let out one big sigh, and got out of the car. An hour packing the car at 8 o'clock at night, leaving at 5 AM and driving all day, and now it would take another hour to unpack and one more hour on top of that to get everything to his room and set up.

After the trunk was opened, and his suitcases and duffle bags were laid out in the grass, Jimmie turned to look at his mom. "This could take a while." She nodded her assent and grabbed a bag.

He'd been mailed a letter with his dorm number earlier that week, so he just had to find his room, and they'd be good.

With his mom lugging two rolling suitcases behind her, and Jimmie shouldering a duffle bag and backpack, they began their walk through the dorms.

"First floor..." He mumbled as they made their way up the stairs. "Second floor... third floor... fourth floor. Here we are." They walked down the hall, looking at the numbers on all the doors before he came to a conclusion. "Alrighty... we're in the wrong building."

His mother let out a groan, and they began the long, dangerous trek down the stairs again. He hated college already.

Once outside the buildings again, he stopped one of the students and showed him the number. The shaggy haired boy he asked, scratched his head for a second before darting his bright blue eyes around. Finally, he spotted the right dorm building and pointed to it before walking away.

Then it dawned on Jimmie. He'd just asked Troy Bolton where his dorm was.

o–O–o–O–o–O–o

Troy walked away from the guy he was talking to, and started making his way over to his friend Amanda. He'd met her during his Sophomore year. She'd been a new Freshman, and he'd shown her around campus. Something he was beginning to notice, was that he attracted a _lot_ of girl friends.

Of course he had the guys from the basketball team, but those guys he seemed to hang out with as a replacement for his old friends. These girls were just really nice, and were fun to talk to. Most of the time. 3 weeks out of 4 because that other week they seemed to like to yell at him, and complain about how he can't possibly understand them. Then the next week, they'd walk up to him like nothing ever happened, and he began to question their sanity.

Women, he mentally scoffed, who could understand them?

Amanda was a petite girl with fiery red hair and a personality to match. She had quite an unconventional attitude and style. Her cerulean blue eyes always seemed to know whatever he was thinking, and her all knowing English accented voice could get him to admit anything.

As he got closer to the short girl, she ran up to him, grabbed onto his arm and squealed. "Who was that? Who were you talking to? Oh gosh he's cute!" She hung off his arm and was looking at the boy who had asked him directions. With a confused look on his face, he looked over to the guy.

"I don't know. He was lost I guess." He shrugged it off, and started walking towards the picnic tables.

With one hand he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and with the other he grabbed a lighter from his back pocket.

He had one in his mouth and was about to light it when Amanda snatched it from his hand. "What?" He complained.

She sighed. "I don't understand why you do this. You need to quit."

He shook his head and reached for the lighter. "You know why. Now give it!"

She put it in one of her pockets. "No. You need to get over her." He was about to protest when she grabbed his chin and closed his mouth. "Smoking, drinking and partying is not getting over her. You've been broken up for two years."

He grabbed her hand and removed it from his face. "You don't understand. I've given up everything for her–my friends, a chance at living close to home, my basketball career as a Redhawks player. That was my dream, I give it up for her and she walks all over it. And you know what the sucky thing is?" She shook her head. "I still love her. After everything she's put me through, I can't get over her." He sighed and rested his head on the table. "Lighter. Now."

She 'tsked' at him, but he just lifted his head a bit and glared at her. "Oh fine. Throw a tantrum why don't you." With a perfectly manicured hand, she pulled out the zippo and handed it to him.

He brought the flame to the cigarette in his mouth right when a hand clapped him on the back and an excited–very familiar–voice shouted his name. "Troy!" He coughed and sputtered, spitting the newly lit cigarette out.

"What?" He turned around and... no. No, no, nonononno! God no!

But yes. His own personal fangirl (fanboy?) was standing behind him, an excited grin plastered across his face.

Jimmie Zara. Oh God please no.

But instead of voicing his thoughts, Troy just put on a big grin and said, "Hey Jimmie! What's up dude?"

Next to him, Amanda coughed. Troy looked at her for a second, rolled his eyes then turned back to Jimmie, who was eying him happily. "Umm, Jimmie, this is Amanda. Amanda, this is Jimmie."

The red haired girl stepped in front of Troy–quite rudely Troy thought–and held out her hand. "Amanda Syne. Nice to meet you."

Jimmie took her hand and shook it, all the while trying to keep his eyes on Troy.

Troy just reached down to the table, grabbing the cigarette and bringing it to his mouth. Jimmie's eyes appeared to widen at the action, but then he seemed to get control of himself.

"Nice to meet you Abbagale."

"Amanda." She said sharply. Troy chuckled a bit, he'd just met the poor girl and already she was mad at him. In some far away recesses of his mind, he felt bad for Jimmie.

"Oh, Amanda." Jimmie corrected himself. He softly nudged Amanda to the side–Amanda let out an offended gasp–and put himself in front of Troy again.

Troy's bright blue eyes looked at him, and his mind screamed at him to run away. This boy was fanatical and could attack any time. It was suicidal staying where he was.

But he didn't have to as a woman with dark red hair and green eyes came up behind him and grabbed Jimmie's shoulders.

"Jimmie, we've got to get you moved in, come al–oh who are your friends?" Her warm eyes turned to Amanda and Troy.

Amanda looked disdainfully at Jimmie one last time, before putting on her best smile and looking at Mrs. Zara. "Amanda Syne." She held out her hand again, and this time got a whole hearted reaction. Yes, Amanda decided, whoever this woman was, Jimmie certainly didn't learn his manners from her.

"Hazel Zara." She smiled at Amanda and turned to Troy, who was staring at his shoes.

Jimmie spoke up. "Mom,"–Mom? No way this cretin could have been born of such a nice woman, Amanda thought–"this is Troy Bolton." His eyes sparkled in such an idolizing way as he looked at the blue-eyed boy.

Troy looked up, and put his hand out to be shaken.

Mrs. Zara eyed the cigarette hanging out the boys mouth, and grabbed Jimmie again. "C'mon. We have to get your room set up." She pulled him away, though not without a good deal of protesting from her son.

Amanda shook her head with a disappointed 'tsk' noise. "Nutters that one. They're either cute and insane, or ugly and nice." Troy looked at her as if she'd struck him.

"So which am I?" He asked.

"Nutters. Complete and totally nutters." She patted him on the head and grabbed his hand to pull him up from the table. "Kidding. Would you rather me call you ugly?"

He rolled that over in his head, and smiled.

He put his arm around her shoulder as they walked about campus. He had shocked himself at how much he missed the school during his summer, even though he got to see all his old friends.

The thing that hadn't shocked him though was how many of the couples–who claimed to either love each other, or to not break up for a long time–had broken up.

Ryan and Kelsi had lasted about as long as a snowflake on a stove-top and Chad and Taylor had seen better days.

He'd heard rumors about Sharpay going out with one of the Sophomore thespians during her second year teaching, but he also knew that such rumors were started by Tiara. She'd just wanted to get Sharpay fired, but Ms Darbus's loyalties would never waver.

Then other people, he'd thought would never like each other, started pairing up. Martha, who had decided to start the Dance Theater program at U of A, had caught the eyes–and heart–of Jason Cross. They'd been together for 2 years solid.

Sharpay had broken it off with Zeke–not for lack of trying at a good relationship–and started going out with a short, light haired skater boy that had graduated a year after her. That was probably the most unexpected of turns for the Wildcats.

Amanda continued pulling him, until they reached the Greek Theater. She knew that this place had been a kind of refuge for him after his relationship with That Girl had ended. That Girl, as she never wanted to think the vile creatures name. She had hurt Amanda's friend–one of her best friends if she was honest about it–and that just wasn't okay.

He took one last drag from the cigarette–horrid thing that it was, he needed it–and dropped it to the ground, stepping on it.

They walked around to the entrance of the stage and pulled themselves up. It was a gorgeous theater, with stone architecture and huge stands.

He felt comfort here stronger even than on the East High stage. Troy wondered what Sharpay would say if she saw it. She'd probably demand Kelsi write her a glorious 10 minute solo just about the theater itself. Troy chuckled to himself as he realized that she probably would, given the chance.

Amanda sat down on the edge and pulled him with her. Silently, she rested her head on his shoulder and pulled his arm around her waist.

And really, she thought, it _was_ a very comforting theater.

o–O–o–O–o–O–o

"Why were you talking to them, Jimmie?" His mother raved at him, as they walked through the door to his room.

"What's wrong with them, mom?" He asked, pulling another suitcase behind him. He picked it up and slammed it down on the bed, before taking a seat next to it.

"Those people are not the kind you should be associating with." Hazel loved her son, she really did, and wanted him to make lots of friends and feel comfortable, but the boy had a shirt that said 'Penny for your thoughts. Dollar if you flash me!' for pete's sake! Plus, he was smoking.

Her Jimmie didn't need to be around those kind of people. He needed people who could be good friends to him and wouldn't lead him astray.

"They seem pretty cool to me." His eyes were lighting up, probably thinking of that... Trey? Terrence? Thomas? Oh well, it didn't matter his name. But her son idolized this boy, and he looked to be nothing but trouble.

"Yes, well please try and stay away from them Jimmie." She walked over to Jimmie and cupped his face in her hands. "I just want what's best for you."

Jimmie looked up at his mom and smiled. "Yes mother."

**---**

**alright, this should've been different, but after retyping it, my mind started to pull it in a different direction. Sorry.  
Also, I kinda got the vibe in hsm3 that Troy doesn't like Jimmie that much, and I figure that memories of that would still linger.**


	3. Energizer Bunny and Stick Figures

**Author: isawayorkiepoo  
Title: Most Unusual Places  
Pairing: Troy Bolton/Jimmie Zara and past Troy Bolton/Gabriella Montez  
Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort  
Rating: T for Adult Themes including drugs, drinking, smoking and sex but it's toned down and only a minor plot line.  
Summary: Jimmie graduates 3 years after Troy and decides to follow in his role models footsteps. Therefor going to University of Berkley is only right. He just wasn't prepared for what would happen when he got there.  
Warnings: Homosexual relationships. Bitchy ex-girlfriends. Fangirly!Jimmie.  
AN: Alright, it's been a while since I've updated. Sorry! Drama stuff is getting in the way. :( Also, do you know how hard it is, after reading HP fics all week, to try and write things without saying 'rubbish bin' or 'parchment' or even 'owl post'!?! SERIOUSLY!  
I know most courses would have it separated to Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors and Seniors, but with improv, doing the classes growing up, I felt that I learned more from the older students and grew more as an actress by doing hands on work with them, and I'm sure many drama teachers would feel that way.**

Troy sat in his Improv Acting class, doodling on his paper. He'd heard this all before the past 3 years during the first week.

_Here to have fun and explore our inner creative eye! _

_Your imagination knows no limit._

_If it's odd, go with it. Nothing is wrong._

Of course it was only wrong if they said something crude, insulting, offhand or irrelevant. So no, nothing was wrong.

His teacher stood at the front of the classroom, smiling, waving his hands energetically.

Troy looked down to the paper to find that he'd drawn a crude sketch of the Energizer Bunny. _Well it fits,_ Troy thought.

"Alright, we're going to partner up. Seniors, Juniors, please show our young Freshman and Sophomores how it's done." His teacher, Professor Brookes said from the front of the room.

Troy was about to find that cute little Hispanic Sophomore girl he'd seen at the beginning of class, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Supressing a groan, he turned around, face to face with...

Jimmie Zara! What a surprise visit this was.

"Hi Troy!" Jimmie chirped. His eyes were alight with excitement, nearly bouncing on the spot.

Troy put on a big grin and patted Jimmie's shoulder—Jimmie nearly fainted right there—in greeting. "Hey man."

"Want to be partners?" Jimmie asked bluntly.

Troy looked at him, Jimmie's bright eyes, eager grin and happy demeanor, and sighed internally. It would be cruel to say no. "'Course."

Their teacher walked from one side of the room to the other, smiling indulgently. Once he was sure everyone had paired up, he whistled. "Your job is to create an entire scene, about two characters in an awkward or angry situation,"—_Perfect,_ Troy thought.— "maybe both. It has to make sense, and I'll be judging how well you do. And go!"

Jimmie turned to Troy and frowned, ducking his head. Awkward... He snapped his head up and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry man, she said you'd broken up." Troy wondered what he was talking about, before he remembered. Improv, of course.

"Yea, well we haven't." He said, quite viciously, stepping into character easily.

Jimmie held his hands up defensively. "Woah, don't blame me. She's the one that tricked me."

"Maybe you should've found out before sleeping with her!" Troy actually _was_ angry. The issue of someone hitting on your girlfriend—or more—just because things had gotten rocky... he couldn't help but think of when Ryan had stepped in on Gabriella.

"What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry, but you're lying, now put your underwear back on'?" Zara insisted.

Troy's hands balled into fists, as couples around the room were engaged in either silent fuming sessions or staring at their feet. He felt his blood pressure boiling.

"How about 'You're with someone else, get out!'?" Troy shot back.

Professor Brookes walked around to their group, analyzing their body language and dialogue.

"Sorry if she needs more than what you can give her!"

Troy had to hold himself back from hitting him. If Ryan had said that to him... he didn't want to think of all the ways he could've gotten fired from the Country Club if that'd happened.

"Yes, because what she needs is an immature Freshman that probably can't last two minutes!"

Professor Brookes tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. They were certainly having it all out.

"Well maybe she needs someone who isn't so prudish. A real man to please her."

Troy's eyes lit with angry flames. How dare he! "Don't talk about Gabriella like that!" he burst out, surprising even himself, as he launched himself at the younger boy.

Before his fist could reach Zara's pretty little nose, Professor Brookes had stepped in, grabbing Troy's collar. "Bolton! Calm down." He pulled Troy back, and kept hold of him until he was sure he was calmed. "Well, that was very good. Next time, please refrain from hitting your partner."

Troy nodded mutely, his face contorted in pain.

Jimmie watched him walk back to his seat, confused. What did Gabriella have to do with this? He'd never even said anything about her.

Troy sat down at his desk, staring at the wood of it. Why did it still hurt so much? Jimmie hadn't meant to provoke that reaction, he didn't know that it still felt like he was being stabbed in the heart. How could he possibly know any of it?

After a few minutes, other groups were broken up, and students walked back to their desks. Amanda, who'd been in his class since she'd arrived his Sophomore year, walked up to him and sat on his desk. "What was that?"

Troy looked up from where she'd just sat on his poor Energizer Bunny. What a sad way to go. "Nothing. I just overreacted."

Her blue eyes followed a line from him to where Jimmie was sitting a few rows back and she sighed. "Well don't do it again. He may be crazy, but there's no reason to give him a concussion on top of that."

He chuckled a bit and leaned his head against her side. "Real funny. At least a concussion would give him an excuse." He sighed.

She sighed and smoothed down his hair affectionately.

Professor Brookes walked to Troy's desk and tapped Amanda on the shoulder. "Miss Synes. Please take your seat, class is still in session."

Amanda blushed and stood up, skipping over to her desk on the other side of the room.

Professor Brookes stood at the front of the class again, "Yes, that proved to be... quite the entertaining exercise. I'd suggest that some hold back a bit more—you know who you are—and others need to really give it their all. Drama is about _expression!_ Having fun and letting go. Stepping into anothers shoes and becoming someone knew. Let us learn from fault and grow as entertainers..." His voice rambled off and Troy once again found himself doodling on his papers.

He began drawing strange little shapes, connected lines and small sketches, simple words sketched out in block letters. After a moment, he thought of drawing a cartoon, and outlined 4 boxes.

In the first, there was two stick figures, one with its head looking down, the other with a question mark above it.

The next held both figures yelling at each other, exclamation marks in bold above their heads.

The third had the second stick figure with steam coming out of its ears and the other standing in an arrogant pose.

The last one looked like nothing more than the second stick figure having beat the first to a pulp.

He grinned at his work and looked up. His teacher was looking at him with an expectant look on his face, tapping his foot.

"Um, what was that again?" Troy asked.

His teacher sighed, "Name two reasons improv is so crucial to the theater?"

Troy furrowed his brow and stared at his empty paper—apart from his angry stick figures and smudged bunny that is. He shrugged his shoulders and gave an exasperated look.

Professor Brookes looked behind him and spotted someone else. "Yes, Mr Zara?" He asked.

"Improv becomes crucial in auditions when a definite script is not given, and one has to give a clear portrayal of a character without certain lines. Also, if a scene partner were to forget a line, if you can improv a bit to give him time to remember it, it could save the show." It sounded like he was reciting something, and Troy felt a stab of anger at him for some irrational reason.

Their Professor beamed. "Perfect! Yes, many auditons will not give you a definite script. They want you to get a feel of your character and your character backgrounds and give a monologue, small sketch or your interpretation of the play, character or plot. Great job Mr Zara!"

From across the room Troy saw Amanda rolling her eyes and mouthing "Show off!" to him. He grinned and looked back down at his stick figures.

His fingers tapped against the wood, growing impatient with the length of the class.

"Mr Bolton?" Professor Brookes was looking at him again.

"Yes Professor?" He asked.

"If one does not have the full story to a script or character, how can one perform a proper monologue audition?"

Troy smiled. He knew this.

"One should analyze the character, and possibly make up a backstory on their own. It doesn't have to be correct, but to show that you can characterize and act the part to the best of your abilities."

"Good. Does anyone care to elaborate on this?" He scanned the room. "Yes, Mr Zara again." Troy groaned.

"It's best to look at all aspects given. How has this person turned out, what would cause such a turning point. It's good to make a backstory, but always link it back to the story the creators have made. For example, Maureen in RENT, is quite loose with her sexuality. What would cause that? She feels sexually free as she has access to both men and women, and has lowered her inhibitions. However she feels compelled to stay in one relationship, as she sees how sleeping around has affected some of her friends. Her past is probably not a good one, grew up in a nice home, but felt uncared for therefor she needs to get love from more than one place. Without seeing all these factors, you can come to a false conclusion with a backstory, not giving reason for the way the character is or how others see your character."

"Wonderful!" Professor Brookes praised him. "That's a wonderful example Mr Zara. It's good to have you in my class this year."

Troy slunk down in his chair, turning a bit to see Jimmie. He had a self satisfied smile on his face, and Troy just hated him all the more for it.

20 minutes—and 4 more "Amazing Mr Zara"s—later, Troy was sitting on a picnic table, smoking.

"Troy, that's bad for you!" Amanda chastised him. His smoking had gotten worse since Jimmie had arrived. The boy had taken to following him around and it was stressing them both out.

"I don't care. I'm so angry!" He cried, "How is he so damn perfect? His improv, while a horrible subject to use, was good. He had the right emotions and looked sincere through the whole damn thing! And then he had the perfect answers to all the questions! 'Wonderful Mr Zara!' 'Fabulous Mr Zara' 'Would you like me to kiss your ass Mr Zara!' It's disgusting!" Troy took another long drag and banged his head on his knees. "I've been in that class for 3 years! How has he become the star pupil?"

Amanda sat next to him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, but it's not that bad. Next week, Brookes will have forgotten all about his stroke of genius and have moved onto another student."

Troy dropped the cigarette onto the ground and watched the freshly watered grass slowly extinguish it.

One of Amanda's friends, Serena ran up to them. She had short blonde hair and warm brown eyes, but they were alight in panic. "Code Red!" She shouted at them. As soon as she reached them, she put an urgent hand on Troy's shoulder. "Zara! He's coming this way!"

Of course it wasn't that big of a deal, but this way he could prepare himself for ravenous worshiping, or long-winded stories or questions.

After Serena delivered the message, she ran off past them, heading towards another group of kids.

Quickly, Troy lit up another cigarette, knowing the sight of him smoking and the smell made Jimmie uncomfortable. This way he wouldn't be quite as enthusiastic in their encounters.

Jimmie made his way towards them, an uneasy grin on his face. "Hi Troy! Hi Amanda."

"Hi Jimmie." Amanda batted her eyelashes. The boy may have been insane, but he was still cute.

"Hey man." Troy greeted him, smiling.

Jimmie looked at the ground, then up at Troy. "I'm sorry about what happened in class. I didn't mean to upset you." His eyes were so warm and sincere and at that moment, reminded Troy of a kicked puppy. It was quite endearing. Troy ignored the part of his brain that just called it such.

"It's okay. I overreacted I guess." He smiled—a fake smile anyone that was close to him could tell—and took a long drag, hoping to calm himself.

"What was that about anyway?" Jimmie asked, genuinely curious.

Amanda stepped in when she saw Troy's eyes harden a bit. "Things didn't work out between them, he's still grieving. As am I and," she smiled an innocent smile, a hand laid on Jimmies shoulder, "I could always use a shoulder to cry on."

Troy grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. "Slow down there Amanda. What she means is that cheating is a touchy subject for me."

Jimmie smiled sympathetically and nodded.

Troy looked at him then down at the ground. "Well, I need to get to work on my Musical Theory essay."

Jimmie frowned. "That's not due until next week."

"Yes, work, work, work. Musn't fall behind." He grabbed Amanda's hand and pulled her away with him. "We'll talk later Zara."

Jimmie smiled and waved goodbye, then walked away towards his next class.

"What was that for?" Amanda rounded on him. "I was so close to getting a date."

"A date with a nutter, remember? Nutters all of them."

Amanda sighed dramatically, but kept walking with him. "What are you doing your essay on, anyway?"

"How music came to depict stories, images from poetry brought to life on the stage through song." He had a wistful look. Amanda knew he truly loved theater, it being one of the few places he could truly express himself, and every aspect of it intrigued him. There were the parts he zoned out on—improv, stage direction, dance—but he found it to be so much fun. She was happy he could find so much pleasure from just being on a stage.

She nodded, smiling when he decided to put out the cigarette he'd been smoking instead of continuing with it. She hoped that he'd be able to quit by the end of the year.

"Maybe I'll do some extra credit on musicals being created, not just from a story, but from songs alone. An entire cast of characters and plots just from a single melody. Such as Mama Mia, a wonderful musical written around Abba's songs. Without the music there in the first place, there would be no story, no characters and no plot." He continued.

Extra credit. You wouldn't catch him dead doing extra credit for any other classes, such as English or History.

They walked to the library and sat down in a deserted area. They shucked off their shoes and curled up in the armchairs, pulling out notebooks and songbooks.

Who cared if it was due next week? Nothing wrong with having it done early.

o—O—o—O—o—O—o

Jimmie sighed as Troy walked away. He was constantly avoiding him, and it wasn't like Jimmie was oblivious to the 'Code Red'. Who wouldn't notice that?

Of course it _hurt_. Jimmie had admired and respected Troy Bolton since he'd been a helpless 7th grader, watching Troy rise to the top. It had been so inspiring, seeing someone with a dream go after it, work so hard for it.

And now, after all the work Jimmie had done, he felt connected in that way. He'd worked hard for his dream of being an actor, but those comments he heard from across the courtyard had hurt too.

_'How is he so damn perfect? His improv, while a horrible subject to use, was good. He had the right emotions and looked sincere through the whole damn thing! And then he had the perfect answers to all the questions!' _

He'd almost been foolish enough to think that perhaps Troy would be proud, seeing someone that had admired him, follow in his footsteps, working for something he wanted. It wasn't like he didn't deserve praise, he'd been doing everything he could to be a great actor.

But even Troy Bolton didn't understand that. Troy Bolton didn't even want him around.

He wondered why he ever came to this school.

o—O—o—O—o—O—o

Troy shared an apartment off campus with Amanda. It was relatively small, two bedrooms and a small living room. Their kitchen was rarely used, mainly just to store junk food or warm up take out.

He loved sharing a place with such a close friend, they got along great and talked constantly.

Except when she decided to bring over her 'adopted' sisters. They were made up of some older girls, Seniors and then a few Freshmans that she welcomed to the group. Those nights _h__ated _sharing an apartment.

He was stuck in his room, blasting his music, trying to drown out the squeals coming from the living room.

"Did you _see_ him? He was _totally_ looking at you yesterday!"

"No he wasn't! He was probably looking behind me."

"You were standing in front of a wall, girl! He was totally checking you out!"

And it kept going, back and forth, one girl saying he liked her, the other denying it, again and again until the entire group ganged up on the girl.

How much fun could these girls actually be having, giggling over these boys that usually had no interest in them? It was aggravating him to no end.

"No WAY!" Indoor voices. They needed to learn about _indoor voices!_

Troy got up and opened the door, leaning in the doorway. "Girls, could you _please_ keep it down. Some of us are trying to do stuff."

Amanda looked up from her seat on the couch, "Yes, because blasting your eardrums out with loud music is _so_ productive!"

Troy raised an eyebrow. "It's better than squealing over which guy is hotter this week."

Sadie, a Freshman he'd only seen once or twice piped up. "Oh please Troy. Don't stand there pouting just because you want to talk boys too." There were giggles around the room, but thankfully Amanda didn't laugh.

"Yes, it's my life long dream to giggle over Brad Pitt and determine if I'm compatible with Joe Jonas." He deadpanned.

Amanda smiled. "I already filled out your compatibility test for him. You're an 8."

Troy blushed and grabbed the door. "Yes, well please keep it down." With that, he shut the door. Behind him giggles erupted from the girls laying across his living room.

He laid down again, thankful that after that last outburst they seemed to quiet down. His mind drifted to what happened that day.

Now that his mind was clear, he realized he really had overreacted. It wasn't Jimmie's fault and Troy shouldn't have tried to hit him. On top of that, he shouldn't have been so rude, walking off right after Jimmie greeted him.

He could remember times when his dad would take him to basketball games and he either froze up, too starstruck to say anything, or talked his head off. He could understand admiration and people looking up to him. Maybe Jimmie wasn't _so_ bad.

But still, he had taken pictures of Troy's bedroom. And he wanted Troy's locker and captain title. It seemed like he was determined to copy Troy in everything.

Even the theater wasn't safe. That had been his refuge for the past two years since his breakup with Gabriella. Now he had to share it with the boy that had followed him everywhere and took every other title he'd ever had.

Maybe it would be better to just make friends with him instead of avoiding him like the plague.

"What about that Zara kid?" One of the girls in the living room asked, voice raised to its previous volume.

"Nah, he won't even look at me." That was Amanda's voice. "He's all eyes for Troy."

"Man, why do all the good ones have to be gay?"

No, his mind decided. Avoiding him would be fine.


	4. Chips Not Breaks

Author: isawayorkiepoo  
Title: Most Unusual Places  
Pairing: Troy Bolton/Jimmie Zara and past Troy Bolton/Gabriella Montez  
Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort  
Rating: T for Adult Themes including drugs, drinking, smoking and sex but it's toned down and only a minor plot line.  
Summary: Jimmie graduates 3 years after Troy and decides to follow in his role models footsteps. Therefor going to University of Berkley is only right. He just wasn't prepared for what would happen when he got there.  
Warnings: Homosexual relationships. Bitchy ex-girlfriends. Fangirly!Jimmie.  
AN: It's taken me forever, but my brain doesn't want to cooperate, and I have been thinking of how I want the confrontation between Amanda and Gabby to go and.. I like it.

Also, I found out something wonderful about myself. Apparently when I was younger, I displayed signs of being a synesthete. I would read something, and out of the corner of my eye, the words surrounding it would show up colored or shaded, such as an R would be red, or an E would be yellow. I never realized it was happening, though it happens in a more subtle way now. It's lighter shades, and only the words directly around the ones I read, but it's kinda cool to know what it is now. I only found out, because I was looking at the Patrick Stump Wikipedia page and it said he's a notable synesthete. So yea, random fact of the week!

o-O-o-O-o-O-o

Troy leaned his head on Amanda's shoulder, his face crumpled in pain.

He saw Her. Not that it was uncommon by any means, but he saw Her at a bar, being felt up by some blonde guy that She hadn't been with the last time.

She was always with someone new. What happened to the person he used to know? The girl that would laugh and smile and joke around? He missed her, because even if they weren't together, at least this way he knew she was safe and with a good person. He still loved her, even if she did keep breaking his heart. 40 miles away, and still being able to bring him to his knees in pain and heartache.

Amanda brought her hand up and ran her fingers through his hair, a gentle arm wrapped around his shoulders. No one should go through the pain he'd been put through over the years.

She wanted him to be happy, to feel free and maybe stop being so dependent on smoking and drinking. He wasn't an alcoholic by any means, but she'd seen him sneaking into the kitchen for a beer late at night, when he'd had a rough day.

"Come here baby boy." She whispered, pulling him closer. He wasn't the bright spirit she'd heard of from his friends back home. He used to have such an air of charisma, and complete happiness, but she couldn't recognize it now. He laughed, and smiled and made witty remarks, because face it, she wouldn't even be friends with him if he couldn't keep up with her witty charm, but it wasn't the same kind of cheerfulness he used to have. "Shh, it's okay." She rubbed his back, trying to keep the tears away. No more tears, she couldn't stand it.

He pushed his face further into her shoulder, seeking comfort and warmth. Her arms were so comforting and warm. He felt safe with her, and safe is what he needed. He needed to finally get over her, and find someone new. But his heart was so mangled already, how could he? He grabbed desperately at her shirt, his blue eyes clouding over.

She smiled grimly down at him. No more.

o-O-o-O-o-O-o

A red-haired girl stood in front of a dorm room, waiting for him to come out.

About a minute after she knocked, there stood a very confused, green eyed boy. "Hi." He chirped, confusion still evident on his face.

"Hi. Come with me." She didn't even give him time to debate it, before she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down the hall.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"I'm going to go pay someone a visit, and Troy needs someone he knows. He's not doing too well right now."

Jimmie snapped his head up at that. "Troy? What's wrong with him?"

"Just a case of a bitchy ex-girlfriend."

He furrowed his brow, but stopped struggling as she dragged him to her car.

Inside the car, he stiffened. Why did she grab him? Why not one of his theater buddies, or a guy from the basketball team? Why the guy that Troy couldn't stand? He voiced his concerns, and Amanda scoffed.

"He doesn't hate you at all. If anything jealous. But he couldn't hate anyone if he tried." She said it like it explained everything, but he was just more confused. Jealous? He kept his mouth shut though, more intent on getting there without making Amanda mad again. He seemed to have a knack for it, he'd quickly learned after arriving there.

She pulled up in front of an apartment building and unlocked the car. "Third floor up, apartment 3B." He got out of the car, and watched it speed off.

And she called him crazy.

o-O-o-O-o-O-o

Gabriella stood stunned in the doorway of her apartment. "Who are you?"

Amanda glared at her and pushed her way into the small room. She sniffed disdainfully at the mix-matched furniture and turned back to Gabriella. "How quaint."

"Excuse me." Gabriella said, rather politely for someone who just had someone barge into their apartment uninvited. "Who are you again?"

"Amanda Synes. University of Berkley Junior and best friend to Troy Bolton." She watched with glee as Gabriella stiffened at his name. "What I'm wondering is why a Stanford student keeps showing up at the bars around our campus. Especially since you know for a fact that your ex-boyfriend attends school at Berkley. Trying to find him, so you can stomp on his heart again? Or maybe you enjoy giving me a crying boy to console every night." Amanda was fuming, taking every ounce of strength in her to keep her from slapping the girl in front of her.

Gabriella looked un-phased though. "Well, my boyfriend goes there, so I meet him there."

"What boyfriend?" Amanda snapped. "Every time we see you there, you're with someone new. This time with some blonde guy, last time some punk. So don't you mean your new flavor of the week?"

Anger flashed in Gabriella's eyes, but then it was gone. "My personal life is none of your business. Would you please leave?"

"It is my business, when it's hurting my friend. Troy means the world to me, and I'm losing a piece of him everyday. I'm sick of it."

Gabriella stepped away from the door, and walked up to Amanda. She was shorter, but no less intimidating. "That's not my problem. That ceased being my problem the minute he broke up with me."

Amanda shook her head. "Or when you repeatedly ended it with him for the stupidest reasons. Broke his heart every chance you got. The only thing he ever did wrong was fall in love with you." Amanda stabbed a finger into Gabriella's chest and sneered. "Just please, stay away from our campus. Every time he sees you, he breaks. Chips I can handle, fractures sure. But breaks I can't fix." Amanda stormed out of the room, her angry retreat much more polished than Gabriella's ever was.

Gabriella watched the door close. It couldn't be that bad.

It just couldn't.

o-O-o-O-o-O-o

Jimmie currently sat in Troy's bedroom, awkwardly watching Troy shuffle around. He'd been pacing since Jimmie arrived.

"Where did she go?" He asked for the tenth time.

"I don't know. She said she was going to visit someone." Jimmie replied again.

Troy fell silent after that, only speaking up for the mandatory 'where is she' comments.

"Troy?" Jimmie finally said.

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you like me?"

Troy looked up sharply. "It's not that."

Jimmie shook his head, green eyes fixated on the ground. "It is. You avoid me constantly and are always mad at me. What did I do?"

Troy sighed. "You didn't do anything."

"Then what?" Jimmie asked hopelessly.

"I just don't like--" The living room door slammed closed, noting Amanda's arrival.

She walked into Troy's room, not seeming to mind the fact that Troy was walking around in his boxers. "How did you ever put up with that bitch? I talked to her for two minutes and I wanted to slap her head off."

Jimmie groaned. He'd never know at this rate.

"What?" Amanda looked between them. "Am I interrupting something?"

Jimmie nodded fiercely.

Troy just laughed a bit uneasily. "Oh you know, the usual. Just talking about how super hot we think you are."

Amanda brought a delicate hand up to her chest and pretended to swoon. "Oh how sweet coming from two handsome lads like you."

Troy put on a fake Southern accent. "You know how it is darlin'."

Jimmie watched as they went back and forth. It was amazing how easily they got along. Troy had been in a slump when he'd arrived, not too bad, but bad enough to keep him fretting over Amanda. Now she was here and he was laughing and smiling like it was no big deal.

"Troy, I'm gonna order food. You hungry?"

He shook his head. He hadn't been eating much, enough to keep him healthy but that was it. She sighed and left the room.

"Wow, she's sweet." Jimmie remarked.

Troy nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you go out with her?" Jimmie asked. They got along so good. Everything seemed so natural with them, like they'd known each other forever, why weren't they together?

Troy shot him a what-the-fuck look. "One, she's like my sister. Two, I believe your job of baby-sitting me is done. Look, I haven't gone emo yet, my wrists aren't bleeding and I'm not keeling over from an overdose. Your job is done."

Jimmie sighed but got up and walked to the door anyway.

"Zara?" Troy called. Jimmie turned around, leaning on the door frame. "Thanks."

Jimmie nodded and walked out of the room. Well, it was a start.


End file.
